Chapter 10:The Horned Bargain

The Thames' waters churned beneath a blood-red moon as Ethan stood at the edge of the ritual circle, his veins glowing silver, the kelpie's essence thrumming in his bones. Rowan paced behind him, her silver hair tangled with seaweed, the Book of Binds clutched in her hand. The air reeked of iron and salt—a witch's brew to mask their scent from Lir's children.

"Are you sure this will work?" Ethan asked, his voice hollow. The pendant Rowan gave him burned against his chest, its triskele runes flickering like dying embers.

Rowan snorted. "The ritual requires a sacrifice," she said, flipping through the Book's ancient pages. "A soul for a soul. Níðhöggr's prison needs a new keeper… or a replacement."

Ethan's jaw tightened. He thought of the boy in the river, the lives lost to the kelpie's curse, and Rowan's cryptic warning: You're not the only one bound to the Thames. "You mean me."

Rowan didn't answer. She pressed a dagger into his hand—its blade etched with Celtic runes, its hilt wrapped in kelp. "The Well of Segais holds the last drop of Lir's power," she said. "If you drown him there…"

"…Níðhöggr's corruption will be cleansed," Ethan finished.

Rowan nodded. "But the ritual demands a price. You'll either become a god… or a corpse."

Before Ethan could respond, the ground trembled. A banshee's wail split the air, and the dullahan materialized atop a nearby hill, its antlers replaced by a crown of bones. It raised its scythe, and the air filled with the sound of cracking ice.

Rowan cursed. "They've found us."

From the shadows emerged figures—Fionnuala, Aodh, and Fiachra, the children of Lir, their forms flickering between swans and spectral warriors. Their eyes glowed crimson, their feathers blackened by corruption. "Join us," Fionnuala hissed, her voice like broken glass. "Become one with the sea."

Ethan raised his hand, the ring flaring. The river surged, forming a shield of water. The swans screeched, diving into the current. The Thames erupted, dissolving the shield. Ethan staggered, Níðhöggr's voice whispering in his mind: *"Embrace me, mortal. We can rule the river together."*

Rowan grabbed his arm. "Focus! The ritual site is on the island."

They ran, the dullahan's hooves thundering behind them. The river's current obeyed Ethan's command, freezing into a bridge of ice. Rowan hesitated. "You're controlling the river… without the bridle."

Ethan didn't answer. The kelpie's voice grew louder, urging him to surrender. He pushed it aside, focusing on the Well of Segais—a black pool surrounded by standing stones. As they reached the island, the dullahan's scythe slashed through the air, narrowly missing Ethan. He spun, summoning a geyser of water to knock the creature back. Its antlers shattered, dissolving into mist.

Rowan seized the opportunity. "Now!"

Ethan pressed the dagger into the circle's center. Light erupted, blinding them. When it faded, the island had transformed—a portal shimmered at the circle's heart, its edges lined with the triskele symbol.

"Step through," Rowan said. "The Otherworld's heart is the only place Lir can be bound."

Ethan hesitated. The portal hummed with energy, pulling at his soul. "What about you?"

Rowan turned away. "I have my own debts to settle."

Before he could protest, she vanished into the mist. Ethan clenched his jaw, stepping into the portal.

The Otherworld greeted him with silence—a void of shifting shadows and whispers. The river flowed overhead, its waters frozen in mid-air. At its center floated Lir, the sea god, his form a colossal wave of black water, eyes burning with hatred.

"You," he boomed, his voice like crashing waves. "The kelpie's thrall… come to feed me your soul?"

Ethan raised the dagger. "I come to banish you."

Lir laughed, the sound shaking the void. "The bridle is broken. Your power is a shadow of mine."

The sea god lunged, but Ethan stood his ground. He pressed the dagger into his chest, channeling the river's energy. Light erupted from his veins, merging with the blade. The runes flared, sucking Lir's essence into the dagger.

Lir screeched, his form fracturing. "You cannot contain me! The geis demands blood—yours."

Ethan staggered as Lir's corruption surged into him. The kelpie's voice grew louder, urging him to surrender. He fought back, focusing on Grampa's lessons, the boy's laughter, Rowan's reluctant alliance.

"I am the river," he roared. "And I claim this soul as my own."

The dagger's light intensified, consuming Lir. The sea god dissolved into mist, his final scream echoing into the void. Ethan collapsed, the dagger falling from his hand.

When he opened his eyes, Rowan stood above him, her silver hair tangled with weeds. "You did it," she said, though her tone held no warmth.

Ethan coughed, blood trickling from his lips. "Why… why help me?"

Rowan hesitated. "Because Lir's daughter owes a debt to the Reeds." She knelt, pressing a vial into his hand—a shimmering liquid, cold to the touch. "This will keep Níðhöggr's corruption at bay… for now."

Ethan frowned. "What aren't you telling me?"

Rowan turned away. "The dagger's power is tied to the river's heart. As long as you live, Lir is trapped. But if you die…"

"…he'll return," Ethan finished.

Rowan nodded. "And the Thames will drown the world."

She vanished into the mist, leaving Ethan alone with the vial's hum. The river whispered a final warning, but he smiled. The geis was broken, the kelpie silenced, and the seventh moon had risen without bloodshed.